All the King's Horses
by x.Anaphora.x
Summary: It's been over a year since Alice sent the Oysters free, but things in Wonderland are far from getting better. The Resistance has a new cause, Jack & Alice have disappeared, and the other Kingdoms in Wonderland are scrambling for the power now up for grabs. The last thing Wonderland needs is an Oyster in the middle of their civil war, and yet, here she is. Alice/Jack & Hatter/OC


**ALL THE KING'S HORSES**

**(Chapter One) Anywhere but Here**

**Author's Note:: **_I noticed a serious lack of solid OC SyFy Alice stories, and so I decided to try to fix this, and write one. I'm not entirely done planning, and my plot has a couple of holes I'm sorting out, but I wanted to test out a possible first chapter to see what you guys think, and if you can buy into the character, and are slightly intrigued (although, I'll admit there isn't a lot of Wonderland here.) _

_Also, as a bit of a warning, this chapter is definitely Teen, maybe bordering a bit on Mature, but as it's just a sampler, I'm keeping my rating where it's at and just ask that if you don't like to read cursing, you put up with it for the small scene it's in here. _

* * *

___Feels like I am falling down a rabbit hole  
Falling for forever, wonderfully wandering alone_

It was almost eleven o'clock when Roe unlocked the door to the small apartment that she shared with her roommate. It was a rather rundown little space that sat at the end of a long hall in the middle of their building. The building itself was one of the shadier ones in the city, but that's what you got when you were a broke 20-something who was just happy to be free from the foster care system and had a whole different set of priorities than the ones they taught you that you should have in school. The walls of the building were thin, the fights at night were loud, and the landlord couldn't tell the difference between a nail and a screw and he only spoke two words of English: rent due, but it was their space, and that was all they really wanted. Besides, the interesting characters that populated the building made Roe feel more at home.

"Roe!" she was greeted as she stepped through the doorway and into their living room/kitchen/dining room/parlor/office/everything. When she'd left in the morning, Dorothy had been passed out on the couch. Now she sat there with three other people around her. "Get your ass in here, and shut the door behind you." Dorothy called playfully. "Don't want anyone eavesdropping on our party." Roe glanced around at the variety of almost empty alcohol bottles that populated the counter that seemed to have multiplied in number since this morning.

"As if closing the door makes a difference. Sound goes right through the walls in this shithole." The boy who was lounging across their trash-picked armchair commented, taking a sip out of his cup.

"This shithole is better than that fucking shoebox you got." Dorothy shot back, her playfulness gone.

"My place is smaller, yeah, but at least I don't have to listen to a prostitute fucking every night." He returned.

"Your place smells like piss, and Candy never brings any customers home." Dorothy defended their neighbor. Roe walked in and shut the door behind her. Home sweet home.

"Your hair looks nice, Roe." The girl sitting next to Dorothy on the couch complimented.

"Thanks, Lee." Roe smiled, moving a hand through the top of her hair, pushing it back and mixing the dark brown locks with the bright red streaks. "I just re-dyed it."

"I like it." Leona confirmed again.

"Hey, come sit down and celebrate." The boy sitting on Dorothy's other side called to Roe.

"Celebrate what?" Roe asked, moving closer to the group of friends.

"Dorothy's great return from Oz." the boy in the armchair answered.

"Fuck you, Kyle." Dorothy snapped.

"What?" Kyle asked looked indignant.

"I wasn't running around on some fucking merry adventure. I was imprisoned. And the Oz jokes are seriously getting old." Dorothy argued, and the two began to fight again.

"They've been like this for the past half hour." Leona said wearily, looking up at Roe.

"And poor J.P.'s stuck in the middle of it." Roe gave a sympathy pout to the boy who was literally in the middle of the fight due to his poor choice of sitting next to Dorothy on the couch. "I can't though."

"Come on, Dorothy got the good stuff." J.P. said, holding up a small bag that white powder in the hand free of a red solo cup.

"I know. I'm the one who actually gets it, and that cost me a fortune." Roe said pointing at it. Instead of having Dorothy go out to buy the stuff and be cheated out of a good deal because she'd pay whatever she had to in order to get her hands on it, Roe acted as the middle man who negotiated with their dealer (as much as one could negotiate with a drug dealer) for a good price. It saved them enough money to be able to pay for the utilities almost every month. "But I don't do that stuff anymore."

"What are you on now? Back to ecstasy? Just don't tell me you switched to bath salts. Roman's on it, and he's an idiot. That shit looks crazy." Leona commented.

"Yeah, you guys are partying and next thing you know, you're eating Leona's face off!" Kyle put in.

"Kyle!" Dorothy yelled, reaching over J.P. to smack him.

"I wasn't even fucking talking to you!" Kyle shouted back.

"You guys should just fuck and get it over with." J.P. said, nonchalantly. Dorothy and Kyle quickly sputtered angry remarks and excuses as to why they should _never_ do that.

"Nah, I mean I don't do any of that stuff anymore. I'm clean, now." Roe said. "I will have a drink though." She said, returning to the counter and picking a random bottle out of the array to pour herself a cup.

"Just like that?" J.P. asked.

"Well I mean, I only ever used like what, once a month? Less? Had to keep myself mostly clean anyway so I could get the stuff."

"You did acid for a lot for a little." Leona said, slightly confusingly.

"Roe, it's a special occasion. For me?" Dorothy pouted. Roe lifted up her cup, and let the alcohol roll over her tongue and glide through her body. She exhaled in pleasure.

"Sorry, Dorothy." Roe said. "But I gotta be clean incase I get another interview." She said, placing emphasis on the last word.

"Interview? You out of a job again?" J.P. asked

"Not exactly." Roe answered.

"The police have been asking Roe questions about her work with Charlie." Dorothy said, cutting through any bit of privacy that Roe tried to have for the matter.

"Charlie? But you only worked for him a couple of times, and I thought all times you came out clean." J.P. questioned.

"Some idiot got caught recently and when he was asked to list all of his associates my name made it. They can't link me to anything yet, but they've been around asking questions." Roe wasn't a drug addict, but she had her vices. One of which was another reason why she was the middleman in all of Dorothy's "business deals." She had a connection with the dealer. In the past, she'd occasionally worked with his cousin who had chosen a different "industry" to get involved in. One where her time spent working at her old foster dad's auto shop really came in handy. What had originally been meant as a way for her foster dad to bond with her ended up as a little hobby that helped her pay the rent when times were particularly tough.

"You didn't put all that shit in the bank at once, did you?" Kyle asked.

"Of course not." Roe said, slightly offended. "I'm not an idiot. Besides, the money from the job's long gone."

"Where'd it go?" Leona asked.

"You're about to snort part of it." Roe remarked. "The rest was all put into rent and utilities and alcohol." She lied again. She had stored part of it away, as she did with each paycheck, to get away from this life. She was happy to be on her own and out of the system, but she wasn't entirely as happy as she could have been. Drugs had lost their appeal, freedom was limited as she constantly had to mother Dorothy, and now that the consequences of boosting cars were beginning to creep up on her, she didn't even have that to keep her in this life.

"You don't think the police'll be coming here do you?" Dorothy asked nervously.

"Dorothy, they already were. I told you this. When you were gone, they had stopped by." Having the police knock on her door that day, she realized that she needed out _soon_. Things had gotten too real, too scary, and she wasn't made to handle this level of emotion. She wasn't the same kind of person as everyone who lived here. The madness and chaos she could deal with. Fear, anxiety, worry, and adrenaline rushes…they were nice and made her feel alive, but she'd had too much lately and it was time to get away.

"Yeah, but you think they'll come _back_?" Dorothy clarified.

"Not unless they get some more evidence or have a warrant." Roe answered. "Well, I'm going to my room. You guys have fun." Roe said, standing up off the chair as J.P. began to set up the lines.

Roe moved back into her bedroom she shared with Dorothy and sat at the small table that served as a desk, putting down her drink. She felt a little guilty for not having stayed there longer or at least admitted that she might be getting away for a little bit. She had a good enough reason now with the police after her and after cashing her final paycheck, she finally had enough money. Luckily, Dorothy had gathered all of their friends there, so she only had one loose end to tie up. Roe took out her phone and sent a quick text. If she got this meeting, tomorrow she'd go to work and never come back. She'd actually be free. There was a quiet buzz.

_2 AM. _

Roe checked the time. It was midnight. Just enough time to take a nap.

_C'mon, c'mon, with everything falling down around me  
I'd like to believe in all the possibilities_

Roe tugged on the bottom of her leather jacket as she waited in the back of the alley. Growing up, she had never expected to be one of those people who spent their times in the back alleys. She would have slapped someone in the face if they had, or at least been incredibly offended. That just went to show what happened to people when they were left with nothing and no one. She heard footsteps behind her and turned her head, quickly. "Roe." A familiar voice said, and Roe pushed herself off of the wall, turning to face the figure fully.

"Claude." Roe said.

"Out already?" he asked.

"She's back." Roe said, running her hand back through her hair again. She had to tell him the truth. Or, most of the truth. He wouldn't accept anything less. "I'm not here about that though." He cocked an eyebrow in response. "Look, the police are on me about my work for your cousin, and I need to get away for a bit."

"Well that puts me in a tough position. You're one of my most valued customers." Claude

"I know." Roe said, reaching into her leather mid-calf lace up boots and producing a wad of cash, and then reached in her jacket pocket and produced a small piece of paper which she put in her other hand. "This," she shook her hand with the cash "should be enough for at least a couple of months at the current rate. Hopefully by then I can get back, and this," she held up the small piece of paper "is the number of a friend who'll cover for me while I'm gone. Text him in a couple of days and tell him about our business arrangement. He can be trusted."

"Does this friend have a name?" Claude asked as he took the money.

"Police! Freeze!" A voice called, and Roe's eyes went wide, as she looked accusingly at Claude, and then at the two police officers who must have overheard their voices while on patrol. Their guns were up, but Roe didn't think about it, all she could think was that she couldn't afford to get caught now. Not when she was so close to getting out. So, instead of freezing, she ran. The bullet whizzed by her, but she didn't stop. She just kept going. She didn't care if Claude thought she sold him out, technically he could have done the same thing, although if either of them _had_ sold the other out, there probably would have been more than the two. She heard footsteps behind her and went faster, winding her way through the alleys. She saw a staircase, and, taking a chance she took the stairs to at a side. She rushed through the door of the abandoned warehouse and kept running through the building. She turned, hearing gunshots again, and when she turned back around, she found a large mirror in front of her. Roe couldn't stop, and so, to guard herself, she lifted her arms up to her face to protect it.

There was no crash. Roe fell, and taking her hands away from her face, she was surrounded in what seemed to be like a funnel of clouds, everything pressing around her as she fell down and down and down. Her stomach went up to her throat, and just before she could get sick, the pressure stopped, and a rush filled her ears and a heavy wind blew back her hair, and she landed with a splash.

Roe was very confused for a second until she realized that she was still falling, albeit at a significantly slower rate, and she couldn't breathe or see anything. She flapped her arms and rose a couple of inches, but didn't get vey far up. She fell back to where she was, and after a few long seconds she felt her feet upon the ground and with all her strength, she pushed up to the surface. A few more flaps, and she broke the surface. She spit out water and took a quick breath before she fell back under. She kept her eyes stuck out to her side, and continued to try to push down on the water, making up a little bit of distance. She had never learned how to swim. It wasn't that she was afraid of water, and even as she was drowning, she didn't find herself afraid of water, just death. The fact was that learning to swim had just had never been important. She couldn't afford to go to a pool and none of her friends ever had one she could visit either. She'd gone to fountains and sprinklers whenever she wanted to cool off. Even as a child she'd only ever gone to the beach and hadn't been allowed to go deep enough for her to swim. She just put her ankles in. So, nobody had ever bothered to teach her, and she had never felt as if she was missing out. Until now.

She couldn't get enough air to scream, and she was using all of her strength to attempt to keep her above the surface. Her eyes had screwed themselves shut once she realized she was under water, and even when her head bobbed above the surface, she could feel her hair covering her face so that she wouldn't even be able to see if she opened them. The only thing she could hear was the rush of water and air past her ears as she continually dipped above and below the surface. This was much different than the huge display of someone splashing and screaming that she saw in movies. She began to sink below, and growing tired of fighting, her attempts at staying above the surface grew weaker. She had managed to run out of reach from the bullets, and right into the cold death grip of water. She could feel bubbles on the back of her legs as she continued to fall down, and the literal grip of death, wrap around her waist and hold her tightly. She was confused however, when her head popped above the water completely. She attempted to breathe in through her nose and coughed, water sputtering out of her lungs. She began to slip back down, when the grip got even tighter and, suddenly she could feel herself being lifted, onto what she assumed was a boat. She felt exhausted, and it took all her strength to hold herself up on her elbow and cough out more water. She took a deep breath in and moved a hand to push her hair back over her head, before moving the hand down over her eyes so she could open them without the water getting into them.

Yep. Definitely in a boat. She collapsed, falling off her elbow and looking up into the sky that she had just fallen out of. Beside her, there was the sound of someone breathing heavily. She turned her head, and came face to face with tan lace up boots, reminiscent of her own. She followed up the dark maroon pinstriped pants, to the drenched, lighter maroon button up shirt with what could only be described as psychedelic patterns on it. There was a sopping, loosely tied, red necktie, and then she reached a face. There light stubble framed the man's jaw line and lips, just as dark eyelashes framed his chocolate brown eyes. It was almost as if he was wearing mascara, only if he had, it would have been running down his face like her must have been. He was placing a tan hat back onto his dark brown locks that, fell wildly in a bunch of directions. The rings on his fingers glittered in the sun. He was pale, seemed a little shorter, and was clearly very strong for having puled her one armed into the boat. He didn't look capable of such a feat, not that she was particularly heavy. In fact, she changed her mind, she was small enough that it made sense.

"You alright?" he asked, revealing what she could only describe as an English accent. Had she been more informed, she would have been able to pin it as a variation of the Yorkshire accent, but as it was she just sat there glad to be alive and slightly charmed by her intriguing savior. She attempted to nod, but realizing how small the movement was, she attempted to speak.

"Yeah." She said, starting to sit up. He reached to help her, but as she proved somewhat capable to slide her back up the side of the boat, that he let her do it herself. She was able to lookout in front of her and saw that she appeared to be in the middle of a large lake that was surrounded by a forest.

"Did your Flamingo short out?" he asked, and she looked back at him.

"Sorry?" Roe asked, pushing her hair back again, running her fingers through the back of her hair. It was a nervous habit.

"Were you riding a Flamingo?" he asked more carefully. Roe stared back at him blankly before answering slowly.

"How would you ride a Flamingo?" she asked, confused.

"Are you an Oyster?"

"I—" she trailed off completely lost,

"You don't know what an Oyster is, do you?" he asked, looking at her hard. "So, you are."

"Well hold on, if you tell me what an Oyster is, then I'll tell you if I am one." Roe argued upset for being so quickly judged. She didn't quite understand the interrogation right after she was saved from drowning, but if he wanted to ask her questions, she felt bound to answer. He had saved her after all.

"An Oyster," he started. "Is what we used to call people from your world. Well, we still do."

"My world?" she asked, her head reeling as she remembered the story that Dorothy had told her. Kidnapped. A casino. The Queen of Hearts. A large mirror.

"Welcome to Wonderland." He said, spreading his arms out.

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**Ending Thoughts:: **_Incase you can't tell, I'm not well-versed in the drug scene or drowning, but hopefully it was ok. Please give me suggestions and criticisms and comments in general! It'll help me be able to write this story sooner!_


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